


Coven of Losers

by RoseThorn14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Good Slytherins, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, Hogwarts Third Year, M/M, More tags to come I think, Pennywise is his own tag, Politics, Slytherin Ginny Weasley, Slytherin Harry Potter, The Sorting Hat, Unusual Sorting, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThorn14/pseuds/RoseThorn14
Summary: Bill Denbrough's life changed the day a strange lady knocked on his door.This was almost as weird as a killer clown abducting his brother.----The Losers go to Hogwarts.That's it.It takes place during Hogwarts Year 3.Bonus! Perspective of Slytherin Harry from kids who aren't his best friends or enemies.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	1. Professor McGonogall

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Harry Potter and the Truth of the Traitor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13200282) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> I'm making this because I haven't really seen a Hogwarts AU that is still in the actual timeline. And I haven't ever seen a fic where other people are observing Slytherin Harry shennanigans and WBWL shennanagins, only stories from the main character's perspectives.
> 
> Technically this is a fanfiction of a fanfiction, as it is loosly follows the plot of sunmoonandstars' Sarcasm and Slytherin series, meaning that, yes, this is kind of a Slytherin Harry, WBWL story, but there's very little focus on that. 
> 
> Also, some sortings may be shocking, but A) I am going from book personalities, which read slighlty different to the movies, and B) I will explain via Sorting Hat musings
> 
> Umm, most of the Losers have undergone their personal growth of Act 1 of the Book before this series as they didn't grow up together. But they will still have a lot of growing to do. Trust me. 
> 
> Also, sorry for yet another started fic.

The morning of the 30th of June began like any other.

Bill Denbrough woke up in his normal bed in his normal house to his normal life. He descended the stairs in his little house in the town of Derry, located about half an hour South of Edinburgh, instinctively making his footsteps as quiet as possible.

This was a habit that Bill had learnt over the past few years. It had started after he was eight, and his little brother, George (who was four at the time), had gone missing whilst playing with a paper boat that Bill had made for him. His parents had withdrawn into themselves over the five months that Georgie was missing, and Bill had learnt to do things for himself, and to shut up if he didn’t want to frustrate them.

Things had gotten better after Georgie was found (in the trailer of the psycho cannibal, Pennywise the Dancing Clown, from the Jumping Circus with some thirty other small children in Glasgow), but they had never returned to normal. Bill wouldn't get yelled at for simply asking for help from his parents anymore, but he would still more often than not be left to fend for himself, especially if Georgie was out at his friend's house. At least his parents didn't give Georgie the same treatment; every ounce of indifference they had towards Bill, they poured into concern for Georgie.

Bill had made his own breakfast, gotten dressed and had curled up on the couch with a novel, his notebook, sketchpad and pencil case on the armrest next to him as he waited for it to warm up enough for him to go outside where he could hopefully find somewhere secluded to write and draw.

The rest of the house woke up a few minutes later, his parents and brother sitting up at the dining room table to eat breakfast, and Bill let out a small sigh of relief that he went unnoticed in the room next to them. He avoided having meals with his family not just to escape his parents' cold indifference, but also to avoid talking. He hated the disappointment in his mum's eyes every time he stuttered over a word, despite the hours she had wasted taking him to speech therapy. If he stayed calm, and spoke slowly, he could usually avoid it, but as soon as he tried to speed up or got too excited, or nervous, or too much of any other emotion, he stumbled. And he could never be anything but a pile of nerves with his parents.

After about ten minutes, his family was done, and they had all left the table to get ready for the day. Bill crept into the kitchen, giving Georgie a tight hug before his brother disappeared after his parents. The auburn haired boy puttered around the room, clearing the table and cleaning the dishes. He moved quickly, knowing that if he was finished by the time his parents were ready, his mother would give him a small 'thank you', the warmth in the words filling Bill with a floaty feeling that never failed to make him grin.

However, this morning, there was an interruption to the routine.

Just as Bill had started scrubbing the egg yolk off Georgie's smiley face plate, the cheerful chime of the doorbell peeled through the house.

"Can someone get that?" his mother's voice rang from the echoey chamber of the bathroom.

Bill waited a few moments, but there was no sound of footsteps on the stairs. His dad must have been still getting dressed.

Bill's stomach sunk as he realised he would have to answer the door. He slowly place Georgie's plate on the drying rack next to his own one (which he, as usual, he never remembered washing) and patted his hands dry on a towel. As he walked to the door, he took deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing his churning stomach and racing heart to settle. The doorbell rang again and he walked a little faster, pausing when he put his hand on the knob to rehearse what he would say.

However, his thoughts scattered when he opened the door to fine a tall, thin lady, with a stern, lined face, wearing a robe and a pointed witch hat. Looking back, he would be proud of himself for how quickly he recovered, for he only took half a second to gulp before he was greeting the strange woman.

"H-Hello. This is the Denbrough r-residence. How may I help you?" Bill was proud of himself for only stuttering slightly, but he was still glad his mum wasn't downstairs, for she surely would have been upset that he'd wavered at all.

_He thrust his fists against the post and still insists he sees the ghosts._

The woman's severe features softened slightly as her lips twitched upwards.

"Mr William Denbrough, I presume?" When Bill nodded, she went on. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I am here to deliver your admission letter and discuss with you the details of your future schooling. May I please come inside?"

Bill hid his troubled frown as his mind attempted to process what she had said.

"I-I'm not supposed to let strangers inside. I-I'll ask my parents."

The professor's smile widened slightly and she nodded approvingly. "I'll just wait here then."

Bill closed the door gently and then whirled around to find one of his parents. Luckily his mum and dad were walking down the steps, already dressed, with Georgie not far behind them.

His parents seemed surprised that Bill had answered the door, blinking and furrowing their eyebrows.

"Bill, sweetie, I didn't know that you were awake. Who's at the door?"

Bill shrugged, the butterflies in his stomach had come back after what the lady had said and at the prospect of talking to both his parents about it.

"There is a w-woman at the d-door. Sh-She says her name is P-P-Professor McG-Gonagall and that she-e wants to c-come inside t-to talk to us."

His mother frowned, and Bill's heart sunk as he knew he'd disappointed her yet again. However, she didn’t say anything to him, instead glancing at her husband before glaring at the door.

"I swear if it's another psychiatrist wanting an interview," his father muttered angrily, striding towards the door, his mother right behind him.

Neither one of Bill's parents were as good at hiding their shock as him. Bill could tell that they were both gaping at the woman on the other side of the door, even though he was just looking at their backs.

"Are you talking about magic?" his father's incredulous voice floated down the hall as Georgie joined Bill at the bottom of the stairs.

"Let me in and I can prove it to you," came the cold reply from the professor.

Their parents had a whispered discussion before the door was opening wider. Bill's mother led the woman into the living room, making eye contact with Bill and silently signally him to follow with a nod of her head.

Bill, of course, did as she bid, the natural quietness of his footsteps made even more obvious by Georgie clomping along behind him.

Bill slipped into the room and returned to the seat he had been reading on earlier, allowing Georgie to squeeze onto the couch (which was only made for one person) next to him. Bill's parents were standing close to them, ready to jump in front of them (to jump in front of Georgie) if this women turned out to be dangerous.

"Alright," Bill's dad stated, hands crossed over his chest. "Prove it to us."

The woman - Professor McGonagall, Bill reminded himself, if that really was her name - pursed her lips and fixed Bill's dad with a cold stare that made him wilt a little. Not breaking eye contact, she withdrew a stick (a wand) from somewhere within her dark green robes, and gave it a flick, causing the Bill's books, which were still perched on the arm of the chair, to float.

Georgie and Bill's parents gasped, but Bill just stared, looking between the floating objects and the woman (witch) as Bill's Dad waved his arm through the air over and under the books, probably to check for wires or something. Professor McGonagall caught Bill's eye and nodded, her lips twitching up into an almost-smile. She gave another swish of her wand, and the books floated gently back to their resting place on the arm of the couch.

Then, she pointed sharply at the coffee table, causing it to turn into a sheep with a small pop.

Exclamations of shock burst from Bill's parents and the sheep gave one, solitary bleat before the witch was flicking her wand again and it was turned back into a coffee table.

The woman folded her hands in front of her, the wand somehow disappearing from her hands.

"Do you believe me now?"

Everyone in the room silently nodded.

The woman nodded briskly, visibly taking a deep breath before fixing Bill's parents with an unimpressed stare that had them visibly shrinking into themselves.

"Now, as I said before, my name is Professor Minerva McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here because your son, William Denbrough has been accepted into our upcoming First Year class."

She withdrew a letter and brochure from somewhere in her robes and stepped forward, handing them to Bill, who was trying to wipe the shock off his face.

"These are your acceptance letter, which will also contain your school supply list, and the official brochure that we give to all of our muggleborn students."

"Muggleborn?" Georgie asked, speaking for the first time since the professor entered their house.

The witch's features softened into a warm smile as she turned to Bill's younger brother, an antithesis to her former severe expression.

"It means that his parents are non-magical people, or muggles, as they are called in the wizarding community."

"S-so, you're telling me that I'm a w-wizard," Bill stated slowly, internally grimacing at his slight stutter.

Professor McGonagall smiled kindly at him. "Yes Mr Denbrough, and I look forward to seeing you in my Transfiguration class this September."

Bill couldn't quite keep the disbelieving frown off his face. Seeing this, the professor raised her eyebrow. "Surely there has been some instance when you've done something that you can't explain?"

Her question was addressed to him, but obviously included the whole group, and Bill was too preoccupied to answer.

His mind had been sucked into a memory.

_Bill was nine and he and his parents were in a small town on the outskirts of Glasgow. He had his blue rain jacket on in anticipation of the downpour that the dark clouds grumbling in the sky was promising._

_He had a staple gun in one hand and a pile of missing posters in the other._

_This was the first outing he'd managed to convince his parents to allow him on since Georgie had went missing in December. Bill hadn't shut up about it until they'd agreed._

_He had been at it for almost an hour when things started to get strange._

_He was just stapling one of his last sheets to a post at the end of the main street before the road split in a T at both ends and a clearing of grass, which was currently occupied by a circus, replaced the asphalt when a rustling from a bush next to him drew his attention._

_His shoulders straightened slightly when he realised it was a snake that had made the sound. He liked snakes. They made good company for a lonely boy. And, despite the fact that his eyes had been misting with tears like they seemed to always have been over the past five months, Bill smiled a little, stepping towards the bush, and the dark green and brown scaled animal._

_"Hi," he greeted tentatively, his task momentarily paused, but not forgotten._

_The snake appeared surprised at being addressed, snapping its head towards him and making a pleased hiss._

_"Ahhhh, a ssspeaker. I've heard of onesss like you," it said. "What isss one like you doing here?"_

_Bill glanced down at the papers in his hand, Georgie's face smiling up at him, dressed in the same yellow slicker and red gumboots he had been when he went missing, Bill's arm peaking in at the left of the frame from when his parents had cropped it out when creating the fliers. Bill's heart twisted at the sight, but he still showed the snake the photo._

_"My brother went miss-ssing in December. I'm putting thesse up so that anyone that ssees him knows that they should call someone."_

_The snake froze for half a second, eyes trained on the picture, before it slithered out across the branch of the bush it had been resting on, flicking its tongue as its head moved closer to the paper, and to Bill._

_"Wasss he the only one taken?" the snake asked, glancing up at Bill._

_Bill shrugged. "No, but I don't know how many otherss there were."_

_He was afraid to ask his parents._

_The snake ducked its head, twisting its neck to look towards the bustling clearing._

_Bill frowned. "What is it."_

_The snake looked back at him. "Come with me."_

_It disappeared back into the bush before reappearing at the bottom of it and quickly slithering off around the edge of the clearing. With no other choice but to follow, Bill hurried after him._

_The snake and Bill swiftly made their way around the circus, barely earning a glance from anyone they past._

_Bill rounded the corner of the Ferris Wheel when the snake suddenly came to a stop._

_"Wait here," it ordered, before vanishing into some thick glass._

_Thunder rolled in the distance and Bill pulled his coat tighter around him, tucking the papers inside it and wedging the staple gun under his arm. He shifted anxiously as he waited, knowing that he should really be looking for his parents, or a police officer, or someone. But what was he going to tell them? A little snake told him so?_

_The snake returned a few minutes later._

_"Come on. Your brother's still there and It’s out right now."_

_Bill hesitated. He could say he heard crying from around here. Surely the police would believe him and search. They always treated missing children cases seriously._

_"Quickly. He's going to be hungry when he gets back."_

_Bill's stomach dropped right out of his body. He didn't need to ask what happened. He practically sprinted after the snake, going further into the thickening shadows of the small forest around the edge of the clearing and barely taking in the large trailer they were approaching. He did, however, have the awareness to register the clown painted on the side of it with the words 'Pennywise the Dancing Clown' underneath the portrait._

_The snake hesitated when they got to the door. There was a small crack in the single window just large enough for it to fit through, but no way for Bill to get in._

_Bill tried the handle, unsurprised to find it locked._

_He let out a sigh of frustration. He couldn't hear anything, but he just_ knew _that Georgie was in there. Every fibre of his being was screaming it. Bill squeezed the handle, feeling a jolt of energy rush down his arm. This time, when hopelessly tried to jiggle the handle again, the door clicked open._

_The surprised hum in the back of Bill's throat died as soon as he saw inside the trailer. Every square inch of the interior floors, ceiling and walls was covered in thick, soundproof padding. And the scent. The scent made him gag. It smelled like nothing he had ever felt before. It smelt like death. Long, violent, painful death._

_Bill swallowed down the wave of terror that washed through him and stepped into the trailer, glancing down at the snake._

_"Keep a look out for It please," he asked, before disappearing inside._

_The trailer seemed larger than it should have been when looking at it from the inside it. There was a bed and a table with a box on it. Bill's stomach churned sickeningly when he peered inside it and found a pile of bloodstained bones, which had been picked clean of flesh, some of them with obvious teeth indentations in them._

_He crept down the impossibly long journey (that he would later realise was only a few steps) to the end of the trailer, where a large, red curtain hung obscuring the end of it. With a shaking hand, he reached out, and swept it out of the way._

_What he found behind it actually did make bile rise up in his throat. Ten children were chained up, cowering away from him. The padding in this area wasn't right, but a deep pinkish red, with clots of blood clinging to the fabric. Now he knew where the stench came from._

_Bill's eyes landed on Georgie, still dressed in his yellow slicker, which was torn and literally drenched in blood down his right arm. Bill fell to his knees in front of the small boy, who flinched away from him for a second before visibly doing a double take, his eyes widening as recognition sparked behind them._

_"G-G-Georgie," Bill whispered, as he pulled the gag from his brother's mouth._

_Tears streamed down his little brother's face. "B-Billie?"_

_Bill's own eyes misted but he pushed his tears down. He didn’t have time for that. His hands immediately went to the shackle on Georgie's wrist, peeling back the now red plastic, but quickly dropping it back down when he saw his brother's mutilated arm._ Oh, God, was that a bite mark?

_Bill suppressed his horrified shiver and put both hands on the shackle, trying to pry it off. There was a locked latch where it opened and Bill swung his head wildly around to try and find the key._

_"He-he always takes it with him," Georgie murmured, his voice breaking._

_Bill couldn’t hold in his frustrated huff._

_"You should go, Bill," Georgie insisted, his voice shaking as he began to cry harder. "He'll be back soon. If he catches you he'll…"_

_Bill shook his head. He wanted more than anything to run, but he knew he couldn’t. Not with Georgie here._

_He gripped the shackle, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to concentrate._

_"C-come on!" he exclaimed in a whisper yell._

_There was the same rush of energy through his arms, and then the manacle was cracking open._

_Georgie gasped, his stream of tears momentarily stopping. Bill moved onto the other shackle, managing to open that one as well._

_Georgie burst forward, wrapping Bill in hug with his one uninjured arm, sobbing as he smeared snot and blood and grim on Bill's green and black flannel._

_For a few seconds, Bill considered just taking Georgie and running. They could probably make it. Get to the police before the psycho could kill all of the kids that were left, but one look at the tear and blood stained faces of the other nine kids in the trailer, some of them outright sobbing as they realised that he was thinking about abandoning them._

_He put his hands on Georgie's shoulders, pushing him away gently so he could look him in the eyes._

_"I want you to run into the circus. Find a parent or a policeman or someone. Make as much noise as possible. Scream. Cry. Yell. Tell them where we are."_

_"Y-you're not coming?" Georgie asked, his breathing speeding up._

_Bill looked at him, feeling sick at the prospect of what he was about to do._

_"I n-need you to be b-brave."_

_Georgie swallowed, his tears slowing. He looked Bill in the eyes, his expression too solemn for a boy of four - five, now, since his birthday had passed just two weeks ago._

_Georgie gave his brother one last hug. "Thank you, Billie."_

_With that, Georgie was rushing out of the room, peering to either side of the trailer before he was sprinting towards the circus._

_Bill took a deep, shaky breath once his brother had disappeared from sight. Then, he turned to the boy that had been sitting next to his brother. The poor kid burst into tears as soon as Bill grasped the chains around his wrist, his tears coming out faster as the shackle popped open. The second one was harder for Bill to open, and it took almost ten seconds of intense concentration before the boy was free._

_"You h-heard what I told Georgie?" Bill asked, sliding his eyes over all of the children so they knew he wasn't just addressing the boy in front of him._

_They all nodded frantically and Bill patted the boy on the shoulder._

_"Go," he commanded firmly._

_The boy pushed himself onto shaky feet._

_"Thank…Thank you," he sobbed, before he was disappearing from the trailer._

_Bill moved onto the other kids, his powers slowing down steadily as he moved on. He'd just freed the last one, a girl with flaming red hair that was probably around his age, when the snake slithered up to him._

_"It'sss coming back."_

_Bill's eyes widened. "How long?"_

_"You won't get out of the trailer," the snake informed him._

_Bill cursed, a word that would have gotten him grounded half a year ago, and swung his head around wildly until a glimmer of a plan sparked in his mind._

_He locked eyes with the girl, whose eyes were watery with panic, but was not crying._

_"Stay here," he told her. "Trust me."_

_The girl swallowed, visibly stamping back her tears as she took a deep breath beneath her gag and pulled her hands behind her back to hide the fact that they were free of restraint. Bill nodded, and nudged the chains behind her before diving behind the curtain._

_Not a second later, there was a banging as the clown rushed into the trailer. An inhuman growl emanated from the front of the room, and lumbering steps approached. The clown was still in costume, tufts of orange hair poking out of his head and his silvery outfit reflecting the dim light eerily. The clown let out a frustrated scream, letting a long blade slip from under his poofy sleeve and land in his hand._

_"Where are they?" he shouted at the girl, brandishing the knife as he looked around the pink-tinged padding._

_He spun around and Bill tensed, but the clown magically did not see him. Really, it must have been magic, because the clown's eyes looked right at him, but passed over his body as if he wasn't there._

_The clown turned back to the girl, and Bill caught a flash of metal, needle point dentures._

_"Well, I guess I don't have to choose what I'm going to have for dinner then."_

_The clown stepped towards her, and Bill had no choice but to act. He leaped onto the clown's back, grabbing hold of his throat and giving the girl time to dart around the monster. The clown straightened up, trying to shake Bill off his back._

_When this failed, the clown bent forward violently, sending Bill tumbling forward, and opening a long cut diagonally across his back as the clown brought his hands (and the knife) up to his head._

_Bill didn't even have time to cry out before the clown was descending on him with feral growl. He crouched over Bill, pinning him down with a knee on his chest, and sniffing deeply._

_"Your power smells delicious," he whispered, drool dripping down his chin and onto Bill's face. "You'll taste even better than any of the other little magicals I've tasted so far."_

_The clown leant down, biting into Bill's shoulder, right near the socket._

_This time Bill did scream, as pain exploded up his arm. Suddenly, however, the clown was rolling away from him, teeth loosening from his shoulder and only taking a little bit of flesh with it._

_Bill looked up to find the red-haired girl standing above him, a thick, femur bone in her hand, and her grotty gag hanging around her neck._

_"Come on," she commanded, reaching down to pull him up._

_Bill took her hand, tears springing to his eyes as his right shoulder pulled._

_The girl briefly let go of him, but only to catch hold of his other arm before she started pulling him along._

_Bill glanced back, seeing that the clown was already getting up. He took an extra second to scatter the contents of two boxes behind him, one of them filled with bones and the other filled with juggling equipment. He also made sure to slam the door behind him, feeling relieved as he heard the clown stumble over the obstacle and then struggle with the now, inexplicably latched lock._

_They sprinted towards the circus, bursting from the tree line to find a crowd of confused people, police bustling about as they tried to get a coherent word out of the screaming children that had materialised._

_Heads snapped their way as they stumbled towards the group._

_"He-He's b-b-back th-there," Bill managed to get out._

_The policeman that had stepped towards them looked into the shadowy trees, nodding briskly, and gesturing to a few other officers before disappearing after it._

_Some paramedics came forward, draping blankets around them and leading them away._

_"It's all going to be okay now. You're safe," the woman beside Bill assured him._

_Bill caught sight of Georgie being loaded into the back of an ambulance, his parents hovering around him. He didn't know if he believed her, but at least this nightmare was coming to an end._

After that, things had been different. Doors were never locked for Bill. Sometimes, if he was really anxious, Henry Bowers and his goons would pass right by him, even if he was just sitting on a bench and Bowers was calling his name. Or, he would be running from them and then somehow materialise somewhere safe and far away.

There were other, smaller things as well. He only ever seemed to need to do one dish before all the washing was done, and the same went for hanging out clothes, or weeding. Sometimes things would move towards his hand from the other side of the room. The list went on, and Bill was sought of ashamed that he was only now piecing it all together.

Professor McGonagall was looking at him expectantly, but, when he didn’t offer anything up, his family filled in the silence.

"Sometimes I could swear that his hair and eye colours changed right before my eyes," his mum whispered.

"I've seen his bike fix itself," his dad offered.

"Billi's drawings and books never get ruined, even if I spill water on them by accident," Georgie murmured.

The witch nodded. "There, you see? Magic."

She turned back to his parents, resuming her firm, commanding tone as she handed them a piece of parchment.

"Here is a list of all of the places that your son will be able to obtain his school supplies within Scotland, as well as the nearest branch of Gringotts Bank, where you will be able to exchange your currency for wizarding money. However, I would highly recommend going to Diagon Alley, as it has long been reputed to have the largest range of supplies, as well as the best wand shop in all of Britain. Although, I have heard that the Ollivanders sometimes do house visits, but it really would be more prudent to just go into the shop."

Both of her parents nodded profusely, Bill's father looking more than a little intimidated.

Bill's mother, however, nodded at Professor McGonagall. Bill could tell she was in business mode, a tone and demeanour she reserved for work.

"That is fine, Professor McGonagall. I have a business trip to London scheduled for tomorrow, I'll take Bill with me while and we can visit Diagon Alley while down there."

Professor McGonagall gave a brisk, approving nod, before she was turning and walking back towards the door.

"I shall be going then. I still have a few more stops to make."

The whole family followed her to the door, staring after until Bill took the initiative and took a step forwards, pretending that he was a businessman, like his mum was. "Thank you, Professor. I look forward to seeing you at school."

The witch favoured him with another approving nod and a small smile before she was striding out of the house, the door swinging shut behind.

Silence descended upon the Denbrough household for a few moments after her departure, as both parents regarded Bill with a sought of wide-eyed awe, focusing more attention on him than they had in months.

His mother was the one that broke the trance.

"We still need to get Georgie to his friend's house and run our errands for the day," she reminded everyone, putting a hand on Georgie's shoulder to steer him towards the door.

"Bill, dear, why don't you read your letter and pack while I'm back there?"

Bill nodded, turning away from his family and finally allowing a giddy grin to slip onto his face.

_He had magic!_


	2. Making Friends at Diagon Alley

The next day, Bill found himself sitting on the train next to his mother, his back stiff and his shoulders as he tried to while away the uncomfortable hours by alternating between reading, writing, and trying to sketch a snake coiled in some robes with a wand between its jaws. 

About three and a half hours into the trip, Bill's mum, who had been sitting silently, staring at the same page of the document she had been scanning for the past hour, turned to Bill. He paused from putting the detailing on the wand, when he felt her eyes on him, looking up into her face, which he found twisted in an uncomfortable expression. 

"How are you feeling about today?" his mum asked, the question coming out stilted and awkward. 

Bill shrugged. "Excited, I guess."

It was true, no matter how apathetically it came across. He had been practically buzzing in the morning, but a few hours on a too-silent train had drained much of his energy. 

"Kind of n-nervous," he admitted after a beat of silence from his mother. 

Bill's mum nodded. "That's…understandable."

Silence stretched between them for a few beats, with Bill glancing between his drawing and his mother. 

Finally, his mother broke, wilting in on herself as she turned her shoulders to fully face Bill. 

"I know the last few years have been… hard. And your father and I haven't been the most attentive parents."

Bill blinked, keeping his face blank from the shock that rolled over it. 

His mother sighed. "What happened with Georgie really changed us. Your father and I both know that. Not that we were perfect before. We worked too much, and pushed you boys too hard. It's just gotten so much worse."

She reached out a shaking hand and brushed it through his dark auburn hair. 

"You've changed so much and I feel like I missed it," she whispered. "You're so grown up. Too grown up. And you're quiet. I don't remember you being so quiet. It's like you're not always there."

Bill swallowed, his throat thick with emotion. 

His mother pressed her eyes together and Bill saw a single tear escape, slipping down her cheek. "I know we weren't fair to you all those years ago. I know how it affected you. You flinch at every little noise. You move so silently. You try too hard at school - I barely see you without your head in your book and you never seem to hang out with other kids."

Bill's eyes were wide as he stared at his mother. He hadn't seen her cry since the day they got Georgie back. "I-I don't know what to say. I-I just w-want to d-do well."

He didn't add that he just wanted to make them proud, but the way his mother sighed and dropped her hand told him he didn’t need to. 

"I know, sweetheart. I know," she murmured.

His mother sniffed, before she rolled her shoulders back and peered straight into his eyes. 

"Now, you know what I do for work, right?"

Bill nodded. "You w-work i-in PR and Event P-Planning."

She didn't just work in it. She was a partner in the biggest PR company in Britain - GPR - and worked alongside Juan Pablo and Helen Rega, collaborating with the biggest celebrities and companies out there to help them organise events and work with the media. 

Bill's mother smiled. "Yes. And you know that means I have to know a lot about how people think."

Her serious expression returned. "I don't think it's going to be easy for you at that school. You'll be going into a completely different culture. So, I want you to buy as many books that you can, and get a few newspaper subscriptions so you and I can learn as much as we can about wizarding society, okay? I want this to be as easy for you as possible."

Bill nodded. "Y-yes mum. I-I w-want to fit in."

His mother smiled and leaned down to kiss Bill on the forehead, filling him some hole inside him with a warmth that had been absent for quite some time. The feeling faded quickly, but its temporary presence was encouraging. 

"Now, go back to your drawing. It’s looking very good."

\----

Bill sat in the waiting room of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. His mother was sitting next to them, and they were leafing through a few magazines together, trying to decide on some appropriate casual attire for Bill that would be fashionable, but that he would still like. They weren't having too much trouble, since Bill generally preferred to dress nicely - he would still wear a tie to school if it wouldn't get him beat up by the likes of Bowers - and they had a new selection of designs for his new wardrobe ready by the time the witch came to get him to take his measurements. 

Whilst his mum and the witch were discussing outfits, another kids was led up to the stool next to him. The shorter child shifted nervously, swivelling his head around the room with sharp, wide-eyed glances. 

"A-are you new t-to this stuff too?" Bill asked, fighting away a scowl at his stutter. 

The kid's head snapped towards him, mouth dropping open slightly. 

"Yeah… I've never been to a magic shop before. I'm here with Professor McGonagall because my mum… couldn't be here."

Bill inclined his head towards him. "Oh? Are you a m-muggleborn too?"

The boy jerked. "Yes. I mean no. My dad was a wizard. So I guess I'm a halfblood? I think that's what the professor called me. I didn't know about it because my dad… umm…"

Bill shrugged, waving his hand. He didn’t need the other kid to go on. 

"My name's Bill Denbrough. W-what's yours?"

The boy sighed in relief at the change in subject and shot Bill a grateful smile. 

"Eddie Kaspbrack."

Bill grinned at him. "N-nice to meet you."

The boy grinned thrusting out his hand. "Nice to meet you too, Bill."

Bill shook hand with him and then two witches were coming into the room, taking measurements and asking each of them a flurry of questions that sufficiently distracted both boys. They were quickly finished and were being led back into the foyer, where Professor McGonagall and Bill's mum were talking, the energy much more casual and friendly than the day before. 

Both women turned as the boys walked up to them. Bill's mum introduced herself politely to Eddie, before looking at Bill. 

"I have to go to work," she told him, patting him on the shoulder as she handed him a pouch. "This has a direct connection to your account - which is opened under your name - like a debit card. Don't worry about how much you spend. I'll be back at the Leaky Cauldron by 6 to pick you up, okay?"

Bill nodded and they enveloped each other in a brief, awkward hug, before she was saying goodbye to Professor McGonagall and Eddie, making sure to tell Bill to 'remember what they'd discussed' before she walked out of the store. �  
Eddie took a step towards Professor McGonagall, his shoulders stiff and his face twisted in a vague uncomfortable grimace at the prospect of following the intimidating woman around for the rest of the day. �  
"I s-still need to get my wand, Eddie. What about you?"

Eddie glanced at him, gaping slightly for a second before he caught Bill's pointed expression. "No I haven’t got mine yet."

"Do you want to come with me? I would really enjoy the c-company now that my mum's g-gone."

Eddie looked up at Professor McGonagall, who frowned, glancing between the two boys, before she nodded. 

"It would be good for you two to get to know someone before you went to school. I would recommend you go the bag shop next to get a bag an Undetectable Extension Charm and your trunks, which I highly recommend spending a little extra money on to get Shrinking Charms and Extension Charms as well. I will find you at Flourish and Blotts in approximately an hour and a half Mr Kaspbrack."

She handed Eddie his own Gringotts pouch, that apparently had a direct link to his father's vault and told him to not waste his money before ordering them out of the store. 

They both thanked the professor enthusiastically before hurrying to follow her instructions. In the end, they both chose similar dark blue pouches, Bill's with silver detailing and Eddie's with gold, whilst they also chose the same model of trunk, that had four interchangeable compartments that were controlled by a dial on the outside, one for books, one for clothes, one for potions and spell equipment and one for miscellaneous items, as well as a smaller compartment that was locked to only their passwords. Eddie's trunk was a warm brown leather with a gold lock, whilst Bill's was a solid black with silver locks and straps. 

As they were exiting, they met another boy who was on his way to Ollivander's. He introduced himself as Richard - call me Richie - Tozier. On the walk to the shadowy store, Bill learnt that he was a pureblood from a very ancient and rich family, and that he would also be attending his first year at Hogwarts in September. From his ramblings, Bill gleaned that Richie, much like him, didn’t have too many wizarding friends due to his mother travelling a lot for her job, which Richie was surprisingly vague about given his tidal wave of information. 

They all paused outside the shadowy shop, glancing furtively between the windows. 

Richie clapped them Eddie and Bill on the shoulder from his position between them. 

"It's okay, old chaps," he assured them in an overly posh voice. "My dearest mother assured me that this establishment is perfectly safe, despite its unsettling design."

With that, he pushed both boys into the shop, a little bell tinkling as the entered. An old man emerged from the seemingly endless stacks of boxes dominating the back of the shop. 

"Well, who do we have here?" he asked, looking curiously between them. 

Richie smiled charmingly at the old man.

"I'm Richard Tozier," he introduced in a formal tone that he certainly hadn't used with either Bill or Eddie. 

"Ahh, yes," the old man - who Bill assumed was Mr Ollivander - said - "I remember both of your parents Margaret Tozier, walnut and phoenix feather - and Wentworth Jonker, beech and unicorn hair if I remember correct."

Richie nodded. "My mother says you always do and you have not proven her wrong today."

Ollivander grinned at Richie and then turned to Bill and Eddie, raising his eyebrows expectantly. 

Bill straightened up, trying to mimic Richie's formal persona, pretending that he was a pureblood child, who had been taught etiquette since he could walk. 

"My name is Bill Denbrough," he announced, then, when Ollivander furrowed his eyebrows, he added, "I'm a muggleborn."

Ollivander nodded, his smile returning as he looked to Eddie, who pursed his lips and shifted uncomfortably before he spoke. 

"I'm, uh, Eddie Kaspbrack."

Ollivander nodded again. "Frank Kaspbrack's son, yes? It's a shame what happened, he was such a nice boy - alder with unicorn hair."

Eddie swallowed, glancing downwards. Ollivander pressed his lips together, but glanced at the others. 

"Right," he said, clapping his hands together. "Who's up first?"

Richie stepped forward, throwing a reassuring smile behind his shoulder. "I'll go first. I should show these guys that there's nothing to worry about."

Ollivander smiled approvingly at the boy and asked him to stick his wand arm out. 

It took a long time, with Ollivander trying out a few cypress and elm wands before going through some aspen and beech wands. When they hit about the twentieth wand, it seemed like Ollivander started choosing wands at random. It was only when Richie slipped and said in his posh accent that 'This seems to be taking quite a while, old boys!' that Ollivander resumed a more directed movement. 

The old man git a twinkle in his eyes, pulling out a few dogwood wands, getting more excited with each failed try. 

Finally, Ollivander put an applewood and phoenix feather wand in Richie's hand, and warm glow surrounded Richie, a burst of orange light zipping out the end, and dancing around the room, circling Bill's head and ruffing his hair before finally landing on Eddie's nose and exploding like a small firework. 

Ollivander smirked. "I think that is the one."��Bill glanced at Eddie whilst Richie was paying. "Do y-you w-want to go first. Or shall I?"

Eddie glanced around in the nervous way that he did, hesitating before answering, "I'd rather go first, if that's alright, Bill?"

Bill smiled and nodded, reaching out and rubbing Eddie's shoulder. That seemed to be the right move, because the smaller boy's back immediately straightened and his twisted features relaxed into a nervous smile. 

Ollivander didn’t take nearly as long to find Eddie's wand, eventually, after about five minutes, giving Eddie an English oak and unicorn air wand that caused a stream of blue light to burst out of his wand, the magic taking the same path as Richie's, circling Bill's head before exploding against Richie's glasses. Eddie and Richie locked eyes, both of them smiling slightly. 

"This is most curious," Ollivander muttered, though he was also smiling.

Bill was up next, and Ollivander hummed when he informed the old man that he was, in fact, ambidextrous. Bill almost regretted giving him this information though, as it seemed to make the process twice as long and about three times as damaging, with Ollivander asking him to try each wand on both hands, and the negative reactions getting more and more violent with each failure. Boxes flew off walls, glass broke and Bill thought he even hear a few small explosions in the back.

Ollivander didn't seem perturbed by any of this, getting more and more giddy with each, increasingly extreme failure. 

Finally, Ollivander perked up bustling into the very back of his shop and dragging out a dusty emerald green box. Bill new it was the one before it even got within five metres of him. Ollivander opened the box and the wand - a light brown with swirls and dots carved across the whole length - practically leaped into his hand. A silver burst of energy sprung from the tip, dancing around the room and doing a figure eight around Eddie and Richie before popping above Bill and showering him in silver drops that actually made his hair and face wet. 

Bill gave a delighted laugh as Ollivander grinned wildly.

"Ah, yes an alder and phoenix feather, a very fine wand for those with strong charisma," Ollivander announced proudly. 

The old man, though, acted strange as he took Bill's money, and his eyes followed him, Eddie and Richie as they headed out the door and towards Flourish and Blotts Bookshop. As the door closed behind them, Bill thought he heard Ollivander mutter, 'Most curious in deed.'

Bill barely had time to contemplate it before Richie and Eddie were talking a mile a minute, Richie cycling through at least a dozen different accents that seemed to amuse the smaller boy enough to dissipate the nervous energy that had filled him since Bill had met him. 

When they got to the shop, they only just had enough time to find all their textbooks before Professor McGonagall found them near the front on of the store, where they were all huddled around a book on wand lore. The professor raised her eyebrow at their choice of reading, but her slightly raised chin indicated approval not disdain, so Bill just smiled warmly at her whilst Richie introduced himself, using the same voice he had with Ollivander. 

Eddie ended up buying the book, promising to lend it to Bill when they got to school. Professor McGonagall nodded to both Richie and Bill before escorting Eddie out.

Once they had left, Bill frowned, his mind twisting itself in circles. 

It took Richie a few moments to notice, as his eyes had been following the professor and Eddie's exit from the store. When he did, he attempted to sling an arm around Bill's shoulder, but, finding that Bill was just tall enough to make the position awkward, he gave up, and instead bumped Bill's shoulder lightly. 

"What's wrong, Bill?" he asked, but didn't let Bill answer before he was going on. "You know, you're really tall, you're huge, you're Big Bill."

Bill stared at him for a second, before answering, "And you t-talk a lot of crap for a good little p-pureblood… Trashmouth."

Richie smiled widely at him, before he bumped Bill's shoulder again. "What are you thinking so hard about, Big Bill?"

Bill turned so that he was looking the other boy directly in the eye. "I w-want you to be straight with me, R-Richie. H-How far behind a-am I. What am I missing out on? H-How much will I n-need t-to learn t-to catch up?"

Richie paused, cocking his head to the side and looking at Bill as if for the first time. 

"Hmm," he said, smirking. "You're more interesting than I first thought."

Richie wrinkled his nose, leaning back, and briefly breaking eye contact with Bill before looking at him again. 

"Look," he admitted. "I'm sure that I'm meant to tell you that you'll learn everything you need to once you get to school, but, truth be told, there's a hell of a lot you should know."

Bill nodded, silently encouraging Richie to go on. 

"Most witches and wizards don't know much about the muggle world, but my mother's… job… has made her uniquely knowledgeable on the subject. The way people act is very different in our world and most kids have at least a basic level of magical knowledge that will make it easier for them to understand classes at Hogwarts and connect with other students."

Bill inclined his head forward, raising his eyebrows. "D-do you have any ad-advice to catch up?"

Richie smiled. "Read your textbooks before you get to school, also get through as many books as you can get your hands on. You should probably also get a subscription to the Daily Profit and a few magazines."

Bill nodded. "My m-mum and I already w-went to the post office thing and got a Daily Profit subscription. Do you h-have any s-suggestions f-for b-books or magazines?"

Richie pursed his lips. "Well, there are a few in this shop that could probably help you but…"

The boy trailed off and looked into Bill's eyes, seeming as if he is trying to determine something. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, because he held out his hand. 

"There's another place I can show you, if you want?"

Bill hesitated, his mind turning over the possibilities. Eventually, he decided to go for it. He desperately didn't want to be left behind, and, if Richie was willing to show him a way succeed in the wizarding world, Bill was sure as hell going to take it. 

Richie led him out of the shop and down Diagon Alley, bopping and ducking in and out of shadows, and generally trying not to be noticed. Suddenly, he pulled Bill into dark alley, hunching in a little nook that obscured them from the rest of the street.

"This is Knockturn Alley," Richie told him. "It… doesn't have the best reputation, but any son of a Slytherin worth his wand knows that this is the only place in Diagon where you're ensured to dodge the Ministry's censorship."

Richie swallowed, glancing down before he went on. "Most of the stuff sold here is considered… dark. But just cause the Ministry says that it's dark doesn’t mean that it's evil. Most of it is actually really useful… What I'm trying to say is that you can back out now but if you don't, you can't tell anyone. We'll both get in a lot of trouble for being here, and even more for actually buying stuff here."

Bill frowned, leaning back against the grimy wall of the little nook Richie had dragged him into. 

He thought about what this mean. He contemplated the pros - learning some perhaps life-changing information - and the cons - getting in (probably legal) trouble. 

He thought about his Mum's many rants about government censorship and manipulation of the media, which she reserved for when Georgie had gone to bed and Bill was being quiet enough not to be noticed. He thought about his Dad, when he took the time to talk to Bill, telling him about how practically every invention could be used for both good and evil. He told Bill about deterrents and using the most dangerous weapons for protection. 

Finally, Bill thought about that day, just over two years ago, and how he had learnt that you can't trust anyone except yourself, because even though people said snakes were bad, one had helped him save his brother, and everyone said clowns were good and funny, and one nearly ate him.

Bill looked down and licked his lips. 

"Take me," he told Richie. 

The boy's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

Bill nodded. His mouth dry. "I want to do well, don't I?"

Richie's lips twitched and turned back to the alley, glancing around furtively and pushing his nose up on his face before he pulled Bill back into the dark street. 

They slipped into a shop, which was only slightly better lit than the street it was on. No bell tinkled as they entered, and Richie immediately steered Bill a few metres into the shop so they couldn't be seen through the dirty windows.

They both broke off from each other, Richie going off to find a few books that he thought would be useful to Bill (and probably also choosing a few for himself) whilst Bill wandered through the stacks aimlessly, flicking through books, and occasionally placing one in the basket he had picked up from the front of the store. 

Eventually, Bill made his way to the back of the store, where the glook seemed to thicken for a few metres before a single lamp in the back of the room that cast the back corner in a small halo of light. Bill paused when he saw this, but not because of the light, but because of the person he found in it. 

Perched on a stool in what seemed to be the only clean section of floor in the entire store was a boy. He looked to be about the same age as Bill, and the way the wreath of light surrounding him bounced off his caramel curls made him look like some sought of angel, an image that was only reinforced by the pristine casual robes he was wearing. The boy had his nose buried in a thick tome, eyes scanning the page at lighting speed. 

Bill didn't want to disturb him, so he reached for a large rolled up piece of paper and opening it slowly, to make as little noise as possible. 

Surprisingly, he was successful in his endeavours. However, his efforts were wasted by Richie bouncing up to them. 

"Hey Stan the Man! Fancy seeing you here," Richie exclaimed, though not loud enough for anyone to overhear. 

The boy jerked his head up, dicking it guiltily as he quickly slammed his book shut. 

Richie raised his eyebrows, glancing at the cover. 

"Creatures of Flight - the Uncut Edition. Another gem that you probably can't find in Diagon Alley," he observed, directing his statement mostly at Bill. 

"What are you doing, Tozier?" he scowled, hugging the book to his chest.

Richie shrugged. "Just showing my new friend, Big Bill here the ropes of how to really learn. I didn't expect to find good little Stanley Uris here."

Stand glanced at Bill, his cheeks tinging pink. Bill decided to make a move before Richie could embarrass the poor kid any further. 

He stepped forward, holding out his hand trying to project as much confidence as possible. "Bill Denbrough, nice t-to meet you."

Stan's eyes flitted between to his hand, hesitating for a second before he shook it briefly. "Stanley Uris… I'm guessing you're not a pureblood since I've never seen you at any of the events Richie and I are forced to go to."

Bill frowned, unsure of how to respond, but was saved by Richie, slinging an arm around his shoulder and forcing him to hunch. 

"Bill is really new here. But he's cool, so I thought I'd give him a bit of help… catching up."

Bill's gaze was forced down at the map he was holding by Richie's arm, and he went rigid. Feeling him tense, Richie glanced down, gasping at what he saw. 

"Wow! This tracks all magical communities within Britain!" he said. "Nice find."

Stan slipped off the stool creeping over to them to get a better look. 

"I knew it!" the curly haired boy exclaimed, pointing at a dragon icon hovering over a small cluster of islands off the Western Scottish Coast. "There is a herd of Traditional Englishes in Britain! All records say they went extinct half a century ago."

Richie glanced around, nudging Bill, who got the message and rolled up the map. 

"Let's make our purchases," he said, before looking at Stan. "I was just about to take Bill to the Emporium, you wanna come?"

Stan hesitated, before shrugging and nodding. 

\----

Bill had a good time with Stan and Richie, with the former helping Bill pick out an owl with his extensive knowledge of birds. Both of the purebloods already had owls at home, though Bill could tell that Stan wanted to purchase at least a dozen of the creatures. 

In the end, Bill took a black barn owl, deciding to name her Argent.

Richie and him said goodbye to Stan, who had to go to the apothecary, which Bill had visited earlier with his mother. Then, with a melancholy mood, they dragged themselves to the front of the Leaky Cauldron. 

They walked up to Bill's mother, but a few feet away, Richie leaned into Bill's ear and whispered, "Watch and learn Billy Boy."

He patted Bill on the shoulder, and then bounced up to his mother. 

"Hello Mrs Denbrough. My name is Richard Tozier," he introduced, his voice innocent and polite as he held out his hand. 

"Hello, Richard," his mother greeted, her tone revealing how impressed she was as she took his hand. 

"I was wondering if your son, Bill could stay with me at the Leaky Cauldron for a few days?" Richie asked, looking up at her. "I've really enjoyed Bill's company and want to get to know him better before school starts. You wouldn’t even have to pay for a room. He can stay with me."

Bill's mother raised her eyebrow at Bill, who nodded eagerly. "I r-really want to stay here, Mum, please? And Richie's here until the end of your trip."

"Are you sure he won’t bother you?"

"No, Mrs Denbrough," Richie assured her, ducking his head bashfully. "You see, I asked my parents if I could stay in my own room, but now I'm kind of regretting it and I would be glad for the company."

Bill saw the moment that his mother melted. She smiled kindly at Richie, before nodding. 

"Alright," she relented. "I'll pick you up in five days at one o'clock. Make you're ready by then."

"Of-Of course, Mum. I promise."

Bill's mum walked over to him, ruffling his hair. "I'll drop off your things in an hour. So don't go too far."

She kissed Bill briefly on the head, said goodbye to Richie, and was off.

Richie turned to Bill, grinning. "See? That's how it's done."

\----

The next few days were great for Bill. Richie helped him make his first potion, cast his first spell (since the wards on Diagon Alley made it exist outside The Trace, another thing that was explained to Bill), and even ate his first magical candy. 

Bill and Richie got to know each other very well. They just clicked, like they were meant to be together. Within the first two days, Richie had shown Bill his second wand (a dogwood and thunderbird tail feather that used to be his great grandmother's, but had chosen him), and Bill had spilled his guts about the tension in his family home and the weird ways his accidental magic expressed itself. Though, he did wait until the third day to tell Richie about Pennywise, and didn't tell him about his weird connection to snakes at all. The book Richie had given him said Parseltongue wasn't exactly the most loved magic. 

When Bill got home, he spent every moment he could reading, pouring through his text books and all the extra material Richie had given him. 

There was only one day when Bill took a break. His mother and father were slightly more attentive now, actually noticing if Bill went missing for more than a day and a half, but Bill still managed to slip away, catching a bus about an hour out into the countryside. He got off in front of a small village, surrounded by fields of crops. 

The map told him that the town was called The Barrens. 

Bill wandered down the Main Street, getting to the end, where the road bled into another field of some sort of tall crop, that was about three times Bill's height. It thrummed with an energy that Bill had become familiar with over the past month. Glancing to either side, Bill plunged into the crop. 

He only took three steps before he was in a new village. 

This street, though far less populated than the last, pulsed with an energy that non magical - muggle, he had to remember the terminology - lacked. 

Bill walked through the main street, taking slow steps as he took in the shops. It wasn't nearly as lively as Diagon Alley, and its energy was more subtle and pulsing. Diagon Alley felt like the rapids, whilst the Barrens were more like an underwater trench or the oldest tree in a forest. 

Bill checked, his watch, realising that he only had time to visit one shop if he wanted to be back by dinner. 

He ducked into the first one he came across on his left - The Cave of Wonders. The bell dinged as he stepped in and Bill had to squint at the sudden change in light. The day had already been overcast, but the lighting in the store was positively gloomy. It was packed with stacks and piles of strange looking objects. 

Bill glanced around, but couldn't find any attendant. 

"Hello?" he asked, thinking back to an observation Richie had made on their third day in Diagon Alley.

"Big Bill?" he asked, shaking Bill out of the trance he had adopted as he tried desperately not to fuck up yet another potion. 

"Yes?" Bill replied, restraining himself from snapping only because there was a minute and a half wait between the next ingredient. 

"You said you've never been able to kick the stutter."

Bill frowned. "I t-told y-you that I've h-had it ever s-since that car hit me when I w-was three."

"I know. I know," Richie said placatingly. "It's just that, you don't stutter all the time."

"W-what?" 

Richie glanced down. "When you do voices - y'know when you pretend to be someone different like I do - you don’t stutter. Not even ridiculous voices though - you don't stutter when you copy how I speak in front of adults."

Bill's jaw dropped down and he openly gaped at him. 

Richie smirked. "Just think about it."

Bill continued staring at him in shock. 

"You needed to the add bitter root five seconds ago."

Bill jumped into action, throwing the chopped root into the cauldron and madly scrambling to apply some of the counter-measures to mistakes that Richie's Potions Master father had taught him over dinner the night before. 

"Screw you, Trashmouth."

"You're welcome."

"Is anybody there?" he asked, all the while forcing himself to pretend to be someone else. 

There was no answer and Bill continued to wind through the confusing store, occasionally pausing to examine an object, but never daring touch any of them. That was until he got to the back of the store and found a wall covered in artefacts set on stands. One near the centre which caught Bill's interest in particular was a wand. It's wood had been painted black with runes etched in swirls up its almost rectangular shape revealing the shockingly white would beneath. Without thinking, Bill reached out his hand, brushing his fingers along its handle. Immediately, a bright grey and emerald green light burst from the end of the wand, casting the whole store in an unearthly glow. 

Bill jumped, back, staring in horror as the stacks began to shift, clearing a path through the shop to the counter, where a black-haired woman with dark skin, no older than thirty sat. 

"I'm-I'm sorry," he said. "I just t-touched it."

"That's alright," she assured him, walking up to him, with objects seeming to skitter out of her path as she approached. "It's no crime in having a wand choose you."

Bill frowned, confused, though remembering to assume his practiced persona. "But I already have a wand."

The woman let out a musical laugh. "In theory any number of wands can choose a wizard. I know many purebloods have one or two backups. It's just harder to find multiple ones that choose you."

She came to a stop in front of him. "Titania Morgan, owner of this humble establishment. And who might you be?"

Bill took her outstretch hand. "William Denbrough."

The woman smiled. "Well Bill, let's see what I can do for you."

She paused when she saw the wand that he had been touching, but picked it up. "Ah, yes, a fine specimen that has been in my families collection for many years. The wand of Lady Morrigan Gaunt, made from yew and thestral hair."

She leaned closer to him. "Some say that Lady Morrigan was the last true ruler of House Gaunt. Legend around these parts states that she cursed the family around two hundred years ago when they tried to marry her off to her brother after she'd already chosen a partner (rumoured to be a muggle, quite scandalous!). Apparently she buried the family estate and most of their wealth and secrets with it, which is why the house fell into such ruin this century/ They were left with only the summer house and a few dregs of the fortune."

Ms Morgan let out a sigh. "It's such a shame. They used to be the richest and most powerful family in all of Britain. But that title was conceded to the Blacks a century ago, and then the Malfoys more recently. Although, I here that the Potters are making a name for themselves, what with one twin in Slytherin and one in Gryffindor, as well as the whole Boy Who Lived business."

"How much for the wand?" Bill asked. 

He had been glad for the information, but when it had started venturing into territory that he had already covered in the books, newspapers and magazines he had read, he tried to stem it. He really should be leaving soon if he wanted to catch the next bus. 

Miss Morgan smiled kindly. "Nothing. I'm glad it could be of use again. Wands like that aren't made to be left lying around."

Bill furrowed his eyebrows, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he thanked Miss Morgan and left the store before she could change her mind. 

\----

He spent the rest of summer studying, steadily developing a routine. 

He would, as usual, wake up before his family, finishing his breakfast and beginning his reading on the couch by the time Georgie and is parents had woken - usually this material would be the Daily Prophet or one of the other editorials he had subscribed to - he had taken a liking to the Quibbler, the drawings and suggestions, though often most likely false, or at least weird extended metaphors that Bill only scratched the surface of grasping, reminded him of comic books and the writing was always engaging. 

Then, when his family was done, Bill would make the dishes wash themselves, without getting up from his seat on the couch. The endeavour would usually give him a headache, and wasn't always successful depending on the amount of sleep he had gotten the night before, but it felt goodt o knowingly use magic, sought of like stretching a muscle. 

Then he'd grab a few books, usually a mixture of school material and the stuff Richie had gotten for him at the store in Knockturn Alley, and find a quiet place in the neighbourhood where he wouldn't be disturbed.

He'd come back home for lunch, which he would either have with Georgie and his family, or prepare himself and take outside if his parents were at work (and Georgie, consequently was at a friends or relatives' house as his parents would never dare leave him alone). 

Then, he would take his cauldron into the shady corner of the backyard behind the tree where he couldn't be seen from any of the windows, and practice his potions for a while. He'd needed to sneak back out to the Barrens two weeks before school began to restock his ingredients at the apothecary, making sure to duck into The Cave of Wonders to say hi to Miss Morgan (who asked him to call her Titania) and buy something small, which ended up being a deck of tarot cards. 

He'd spent the last dregs of the afternoon and the time just before and after dinner sketching, riding Silver, or playing games with Georgie before finally finishing his day by replying to Stan, Richie and Eddie's letters, which came every couple of days. 

He didn't make time for creative writing, since he'd been experiencing some writer's block of late. He was having trouble thinking up fantasies when his whole life seemed to have become one. Though, he had poured his writing efforts into keeping diligent notes and diaries of what he found most interesting about the wizarding world: the weird news and politics, the craziest spells, the most fantastical creatures, and all of his (mostly failed) experiences in potion making. 

This routine was shattered thought, on the day of September 1st.

He jolted upright in his bed at 5:00 AM in the morning, with one thought on his mind. 

He was going to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was it?
> 
> I know characters might be a bit off, but this is how I interpret them acting with the upbringing they have. 
> 
> I don't think they would act exactly like they did in the movie or book since their uprbingings were so different.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

Bill wondered through the crowd at King's Cross. His parents hadn't been able to walk him to the platform as Georgie had an appointment with some really prestigious psychologist and they needed to take a taxi there immediately to make it. But, they seemed really apologetic about it, so, it wasn't all bad. Bill guessed.

Banishing the bitter thoughts from his mind, Bill forged on through the crowd, coming to a stop in front the concrete column that had the signs for platform nine and ten on them. Bill glanced around nervously. Hogwarts: A History had mentioned that to enter the platform, students needed to walk through the column, but now that he was standing in front of it, Bill wasn't so sure.

Suddenly, Bill's head was jerked forward and his heartrate jumped before he realised it was Richie who had hooked his elbow around his neck.

"Hey Big Bill!" Richie chirped once Bill had extricated himself from his friend's embrace.

"Trashmouth," he replied with a small smile.

He nodded to Richie's mum and dad, pretending that he was the pureblood heir that he'd read about in some of the etiquette books Richie had given him.

"Good morning Lord and Lady Tozier."

Richie's dad smiled at Bill. "Good morning, Bill. I see you've been doing some research."

Richie's mum grinned. "I love it when young ones take initiative! And didn't we tell you could call us Wentworth and Maggie?"

"Yes La- uh I mean Maggie."

Lady Tozier patted his shoulder. "Good boy."

"Why don't we go through first, Richie?" Lord Tozier suggested. "Your mum can help Bill."

Richie agreed enthusiastically and peeled off at a run towards the barrier.

Bill blinked, slightly surprised when he disappeared instead of crashing, despite knowing it would happen.

Lady Tozier leant down, putting both hands on Bill's shoulders as she positioned herself to stand behind him as she spoke in his ear.

"Now Bill, you don’t need to be worried. My Richie will make sure you have some ground under you, no matter what house you're in. I know you'll do amazingly at Hogwarts."

Bill swallowed and nodded.

"Th-th-thank y-you Lady Tozier."

"Of course, sweetie. Now go through. We wouldn't want Richie to cause a scene by coming back through to find you. It'd probably be best if you ran at it. It gets rid of the nerves."

Bill nodded and did as she said, picking up a bit of speed and closing his eyes just before

Impossibly, he was met with not resistance. All he felt was a cool wave pass over him and then he was in a whole new station. Bill skidded to a stop, staring around at the war, reds and browns before his eyes landed on the glossy red train.

Bill, usually subdued and quiet, actually gave a small gasp. Everywhere he looked was magic. Witches and wizards in robes, casting cleaning charms and showing off magical gadgets and creatures.

Richie bounced up to him and pulled Bill and his trolley off to the side.

"You need to get out of the way Billie Boy. If you don't, you're gonna get bowled over and its gonna be your fault. And if the wrong person hits you, then you're gonna get screamed at by a bunch of very up tight purebloods and probably called a dirty little-"

"Beep beep, Richie," Richie's dad said, cutting his son off mid-impression.

Richie's shoulders dropped forward slightly. "I wasn't actually going to say it, Dad."

Lord Tozier shot his son a warning glare, before Lady Tozier walked up to them and started herding them towards the train.

"Go on, you boys better get on or you won't find a compartment."

Richie hopped on the train ahead of Bill, dragging his luggage behind him. Bill was stopped halfway on the train by Richie coming to a halt.

"M-move it, Richie."

"Hold on a sec, Big Bill," Richie called back before turning his attention in front of him.

"Here, let me hello you with that, buddy."

Richie stepped forward and grabbed the bottom of the trunk that Bill could now see was blocking their path onto the express. He righted it so that it was sitting on its wheels and the kid in front of them could actually move it further onto the train.

Bill managed to get his things on the train, rounding the corner into the corridor to see Richie leaning towards a familiar face, who was looking distinctly annoyed.

"Hey Eddie," Bill greeted.

Eddie perked up. "Thank god, Bill. I thought I'd be stuck with this guy for the rest of the ride."

Richie gave a gasp of protest, but Bill gave his case a small shove before he could launch into a tirade.

"Come on," he urged quietly. "We need to find a compartment and stop blocking the hallway before we get yelled at."

Argent gave a squawk to emphasise his statement.

Both of the boys in front of him got moving, Eddie sliding open the first empty compartment he could find. Richie showed them a featherlight charm that helped them hoist the trunks into the overhead racks, allowing both Eddie and Bill to perform it on their own trunks, Bill making sure to use his alder and phoenix feather wand, not his yew and thestral hair one.

They eventually settled in their seats, Eddie immediately pulling out the book on wand lore that he'd bought at Diagon and handing it to Bill.

"It was really interesting," he said to Bill, who was already cracking it open.

"You shouldn't take those things as absolute truth," Richie told them. "They all sound positive to pander to people with each wand type. It's kind of like muggle's horoscopes."

Bill wrinkled his nose, glancing up from the book. "So, not accurate at all?"

Richie shrugged. "I mean, apparently they're not inaccurate, per se. Just not the end all and be all of someone's personality."

Before the conversation could go on, Richie's head snapped towards the door of the compartment. He jumped up, and flung the door open, ducking out and pulling his unsuspecting victim into the compartment.

"Stanley!" he greeted enthusiastically. "You must join us."

Stan looked flustered shooting a glare at Richie as he ran a hand through his curls and straightened his muggle clothes, which had become ruffled under Richie's assault.

Stan glanced at Bill and then Eddie.

"You wouldn't mind me intruding?" he asked, polite as the proper pureblood Bill knew he was. "I haven't found a compartment with anyone familiar."

Eddie looked to Bill who nodded enthusiastically. "The more the merrier."

Stan grinned, and levitated his own trunk into the compartment above them with a muttered spell.

"Wow!" Eddie exclaimed. "How did you do that?"

"It's a charm. Wingardium Leviosa."

Bill smiled. "W-will you teach us?"

Stan hesitated, but nodded.

"Just as long as your better listeners than loudmouth over there."

"Actually, Stan the Man, the name's Trashmouth. Big Bill here came up the perfect name."

Stan regarded Bill with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know whether to be impressed that you came up with such a perfect name or annoyed that you're encouraging him."

Bill just smirked and shrugged. "At least you have something to get back at him with."

Stan allowed a small smile to cross his features. "True. Now, this is how you cast it…"

Richie ended up being a quick learner, listening well to Stanley and performing the charm successfully on his second try. Eddie got it not much later, but Bill took a bit longer. It was actually quite easy once he got himself to stop stuttering through the incantation.

Bill frowned. He had to find a solution to that. It was too hard to pretend to be someone else whilst he was also concentrating on performing a spell correctly.

Richie challenged Stan to a game of wizarding chess after that and Eddie and Bill watched on amusedly as Stan wiped the floor with him. However, Bill didn't pay complete attention to the game in front of him, distracted by the idea niggling in his head.

About an hour in, after both Bill and Eddie had been beaten by Stan, and they had all played a rounds of exploding snap, they all decided to do their own thing for a while. They all ended up reading, Eddie borrowing one of Bill's on wizarding culture, Stan pulling out one on rare or extinct aerial creatures and Richie cracking open a muggle novel which he had stolen from Eddie's backpack.

Bill switched between leafing through two books, one on simple spells, and the other on different ways to cast magic. The book had been one he had gotten from the store him and Richie had visited in Knockturn Alley, and detailed different forms of spellcasting, from ones Bill had read about in other books, like runic casting and potions, to more sinister and tricky forms of magic like rituals and blood magic. But, at the moment, Bill was examining the section on non-verbal spellcasting.

The book said that it was much more difficult than regular spellcasting, but gave tips on how to do it, and even mentioned a method used by some regions in America, where non-verbal spellcasting was taught much earlier than it was in the rest of the world, and in some cases alongside or instead of verbal spellcasting. Bill absorbed as much as he could from the vague description of the learning technique detailed in the book and vowed to try and find one in the library as soon as possible.

A few minutes into their silent reading, another boy opened their compartment, tentatively introducing himself as Ben Hanscom, and asking to join them. They all agreed quite readily, none of them mentioning the boy's miserably body language or slightly tear-stained cheeks.

Roughly half an hour after that, just as Bill had gained his first success in the lumos spell, the train suddenly ground to a halt, the lights flickering out a few moments later.

All five kids in the apartment tensed.

"What's happening?" Eddie asked.

"I don't know," Richie replied. "My parents never mentioned anything about the Express stopping before."

"Mine either," Stan added.

"I can barely see anything," Ben complained, after squinting at his book for a few seconds, obviously trying to finish the sentence he had been on in his own novel (which was a wizarding one).

Bill held his wand out in front of him. He did as the technique in the book suggested and focused mainly on his intent, only thinking the name of the spell as an afterthought, more as a trigger than as what caused the spell to work.

His wand lit up.

Everyone gave hums of surprise and appreciation, Stan patting Bill on the shoulder from where he was sitting beside him.

"Thanks Bill."

Only Richie seemed to notice that Bill hadn't said anything, furrowing his eyebrows.

However, Eddie quickly distracted him, by his quiet yelp of fright.

"What happened to the forest?"

They all looked out the window to find that the train had been enveloped in a thick grey fog that blocked out what little sunlight had managed to filter through the dreary September sky.

"It's probably just something blocking the tracks," Bill assured them in as confident a tone he could manage, trying to emulate his Mum when she was talking to client.

Eddie, Stan and Ben relaxed slightly at his words but Richie was still tense.

"I've never read anything about the Express stopping before. Surely it would have been mentioned somewhere if had happened. What if we've been attacked. What if the conductor had some sort of emergency. What if somebody died. What if-"

"Beep beep Richie," Bill cut him off and Richie snapped his jaws shut with an audible click.

There was a light knocking on the door and everyone jumped, Bill looked out to find a girl with flaming red hair, who had already gotten into her robes. He opened the door and she furrowed her eyebrows.

"Oh! Sorry. I must have gotten lost on my way back to my compartment. I went to the bathroom."

Bill shrugged. "I-it's okay. You can stay with us till the train gets moving again if you w-want."

The girl shrugged and stepped into the compartment.

"I'm Beverly Marsh, by the way. Nice light charm."

Bill blushed.

"Bill Denbrough," he murmured back.

"What's that?" Eddie yelled moving to the window. They all followed him, Bill spying a hooded figure pass their window, moving towards the front of the train.

"It’s floating!" Ben observed, his voice shaking.

Stan took a step away from them, throwing open his book and dragging Bill over by his right arm so that his wand illuminated the page.

"Shit," the boy muttered. "Sometimes I hate being right."

Stan looked up, his eyes locking onto Bill's though he addressed everyone in the compartment. His face was an ashy grey.

"That was a dementor."

Ben, Richie and Beverly immediately reacted, each giving gasps or squeals of horror.

"W-what's that?" Bill asked.

"Soul-sucking monsters," Richie replied back quickly. "They're only meant to be guarding Azkaban but the Minister must have let them wonder about since Black's free."

Eddie's face lost most of its colour and he sat down heavily. Beverly sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. Ben started pacing, whilst Richie took out his wand, the one Bill recognised as his dogwood and thunderbird tailfeather one and Stan snapped his book shut.

Suddenly, the door to their compartment slammed open, causing all of them to give gasps of shock. Ben even let out a horrified squeak.

"Sorry," the dark skinned kid standing in their doorway apologised. "Your compartment is the only one that's not locked."

"Right," Richie said. "Locking."

He strode forward and pulled the kid out of the doorway, slamming the door shut behind him and sliding on the manual lock. He then hit it with a quick muttered locking spell before he pulled down his trunk from the overhead compartment, forcing both Stan and the new kid to dive out of the way to avoid being hit.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eddie snapped as Richie flung open his case.

"My mum gave me a book on warding and locking," Richie replied back in a clipped tone, tapping his hand on the side and turning the previously clothe-filled case into one occupied entirely by books.

He rummaged around for a few seconds before he pulled out a thick leather-bound tome.

"Ah, here it is. Bill, come over here why don't you."

Bill let his light shine on the page, whilst Stan stepped up on the other side of Richie. Richie seemed to find the spell he was looking for and snapped it off quickly, with Stan not far behind. Beverly also stepped up, her own wand lit, allowing Bill to try one of his own.

He chose one of the simpler ones and thought about making the door impenetrable as he started the wand movement. He mentally said the incantation as he made the last flick, a yellow light shooting out of his wand and covering the door in yet another layer of magic.

"Are you sure those are legal?" Ben asked, eyeing the book suspiciously.

"Do you really care right now?" Richie snapped.

Ben hesitated, and then shrugged, before casting a locking spell of his own.

Bill shot a sideways glance at Mike, who was scanning the page of the book.

"What about you?" he asked. "D-do you have a problem with it."

Mike shrugged. "The spells on this page are pretty potent but simple enough for us to do. They don't take too much power and they don't do any harm, so why should I take any issue with it?"

Then he shot his own warding spell at the door. "My parents never really have supported military censorship."

Richie grinned at Mike, slapping his shoulder. "I like this guy."

When they'd all exhausted themselves and run out of spells they could do, (the rest of the spells in the book either being too difficult for them, or ward and lock breaking spells, which they did not need at the moment), they all sat down together, squishing towards the back of the compartment, away from the door, which now also had the curtains drawn over it.

Bill Stan and Richie pressed together on one seat, Eddie curled up on the floor at Richie's feet with Beverly sitting beside him, her hand clutching Ben's leg, who was sitting with Mike in front of him.

Suddenly, Bill started to feel this pulling in his chest, as if all of his positive emotions were being sucked out of him, leaving only fear and pain and misery.

As the feeling got more intense, Bill's head started to pound and flashes of his worst memories started to pass before his eyes. Georgie's empty bedroom. Georgie bleeding and crying. His parents' cold uncaringness. Pennywise.

Bill glanced around to find everyone else struggling similarly. Richie had curled into himself, and Stan was squeezing his hand hard.

The feeling intensified as a shadow passed by the cracks in their curtain.

However, instead of moving on, the creature stopped.

It slid the door open, and Bill saw their numerous wards and locking charms fall away like paper under its touch.

It loomed its head in and the pain in Bill's head threatened to split him apart.

Suddenly, Richie's wand began to glow with an orangey fold light, and it snapped off a deep red spell that hit the dementor. The spell seemed to stop at its coat, spreading and hitting the windows around the dementor, causing glass the rain down on the already terrified children.

They all cried out as they were covered in glass, which immediately gave them all small cuts.

The dementor seemed to hesitate after that. Richie's spell didn't look like it affected it in any way, but the dementor stopped its advance. It hovered in the doorway for a few more seconds before it exited and floated further down the carriage.

Bill swung his head around, blinking black spots out of his vision.

"Well," Richie said. "I guess we should count ourselves lucky."

Bev mechanically stood up, dusting glass off her school robes.

"My Mum taught me the mending charm," she informed them, her voice hollow.

She shuffled over to the window and pulled out her light coloured wand, making a small circular movement and saying, "Reparo."

A small section of the class flew off the floor and back into its place within the sill. Ben silently went over to help her.

"I know some healing charms," Mike said, and was met with a chorus of 'As do I's' and 'same's.

Within a few minutes, they had all healed each other and fixed the windows, drawing the curtains once again as Bev cast the cleaning charm on the seats and floor to get the blood out. They all sat on the seats just as the train started moving again, looking around at each other with wide, shocked eyes.

"What spell did you cast?" Bev asked Richie quietly.

"I don't know."

"The book said that thunderbird tailfeather wands can cast on their own when there is a supernatural danger nearby," Eddie informed the, shooting a small but smug smile at Richie.

Richie frowned. "I guess that book may have had some useful information."

Bill snorted and Stan smiled, but they fell back into silence again until there was a knock on the door. Everyone in the cart tensed, unwilling to open the door. After a second the door rattled, but didn't open, as Bill, Stan and Richie had put a few locking charms on it.

Bill felt saw the door shake slightly as a few spells hit it and then the door was being opened.

Everyone sat frozen as the man with dark bags under his eyes and scruffy robes peered into their compartment.

"Are you all okay?"

Richie and Beverly nodded. Eddie and Ben shook their heads. Everyone else stayed frozen.

"What happened?"

When it was clear no one else was going to answer, Bill cleared his throat.

"A d-dementor came in here."

The man frowned. "It attacked you?"

Richie shook his head. "No, it just opened our door and looked in."

The man pursed his lips, but pulled out a whole block of chocolate from his robes and handed it to Bill, who was sitting the closest to the door across from Mike.

"Here, make sure you all eat some. It will make you feel better."

The man cast another glance around at them, but seemed to deem them healthy enough, so he moved on to the next compartment, gently closing their door.

The strange man was right, chocolate did make them feel better. Bill saw the colour return to everyone's cheeks as they munched on their chocolate and they all steadily relaxed.

Richie started up a conversation about Sirius Black, the escaped prisoner. Eddie didn't know about it, since his mother had apparently put her foot down at receiving daily visits from strange birds. It was apparently hard enough to convince his mother to accept that his friends' owls would be visiting him.

Everyone else did, as at least one of their living parents were magical and Bill had known since he'd subscribed to a number of magazines as well as the Daily Prophet.

They all talked for the rest of the ride, only taking a break for the boys to get their robes on, and Bill learnt a lot about his companions.

He had already known Richie's background, from spending the week at Diagon Alley with him, and he'd know that Stan came from a long line of purebloods that originated in Germany, as well as the fact that Eddie's dad had been a wizard but his mum wasn't and he hadn't known about the magical world until McGonagall had turned up on his doorstep and thrust the letters that his mum had been hiding from him into his hands.

But he learnt that Mike lived on a farm with his parents, who supplied most of the country's mainstream plant-based potion ingredients as well as a few of the rarer products to various Potions Masters, including their own Potions Professor. Bev apparently lived with her mum, who was a healer at the Ministry as some sort of legal consultant about magical creatures, and her aunty, who also worked in a magical vet store. She didn't mention her dad. And Ben's mum worked at St Mungo's whilst his Dad had passed away some years ago. 

When they got to the platform, they all followed the groundskeeper, Hagrid, and piled into adjacent boats, with Richie, Eddie, Stan and Bill in one and Ben, Bev and Mike in the other.

"So," Richie said, leaning over the side of the boat to include the others in the conversation, as they waited for the rest of the students to pile in. "What houses do you think you guys are going to get in to?"

His movements caused the boat to rock, and Stan and Eddie both gave twin squawks of annoyance, Eddie batting Richie on the arm until he leaned back in.

Mike, Ben and Beverly looked on in amusement, letting Bill's boat settle before they answered.

Mike shrugged. "I don't know really. My dad says that I just need to work hard, no matter what house I get into and I plan to follow his advice."

Richie smirked, catching Bill's eyes when he looked around and mouthing 'Hufflepuff'.

Bill gave a slight nod and turned his attention to Ben as he sucked in a nervous breath.

"Umm, Mum says I'll probably get Ravenclaw. I love to read and learn."

Bill gave a hum of agreement.

Stan gave a light laugh. "Me too. Dad always tells me I'm too much of a bookworm."

"I'll probably get into Slytherin," Beverly sneered, wrinkling her nose.

"Hey!" Richie protested. "What's wrong with Slytherin?"

Beverly immediately relaxed her features, looking down guiltily.

"Nothing, sorry," she muttered. "It's just my father was in there."

A sought of awkward silence fell over them as they all glanced anywhere but at Bev. She hadn't mentioned her father at all during the train ride, and after the tone she just took saying his name, they Bill didn't want to ask.

"Well," Richie said after a few seconds, clapping his hand together. "I want to be in Slytherin, just like my dear mother. Mum told me not to get my hopes up and that she'd be proud of whatever house I get into, but can you really see me in any other colour? I mean blue is nice and all, but I'm not exactly creative. And red would just clash with the whole cool, suave pureblood thing I have going on, and don't even get me started on how bad _yellow_ is -"

"Beep beep, Richie" Bill interrupted. "And anyone who here's your voices would call BS on you not being creative."

"Though, with all the stuff you spout about becoming both the greatest entertainer and the greatest diplomat definitely shows you have enough ambition to fill the role," Stan told him, causing the others to giggle.

"But you might need to learn some subtlety," Mike added.

Richie scoffed. "I can learn that from the older kids."

"What about you guys?" Bev asked as the boats finally got moving.

Both Bill and Eddie shrugged.

"I don't know," Eddie replied. "Maybe Hufflepuff? I'm not really smart or brave or…ambitious."

"Hey," Mike said, his voice somehow both gentle and firm. "Hufflepuff is for the loyal, kind, hardworking kids. If anything, it's Gryffindor that gets the mainstream kids."

"How so?" Bill asked, his curiosity peaking.

"Well," Stan began, glancing at Mike to see if it was okay to cut in, and only going on when he got a nod of confirmation. "A lot of kids can pretend to be brave, and I hear a lot of kids ask to go into Gryffindor because it's for the heroes."

"Supposedly," Ben added.

Bev frowned. "Gryffindor's not all bad."

"Of course not. The kids that are genuinely sorted into Gryffindor go on to do greate and heroiut deeds. ," Richie said. "I think we were just trying to say that the other houses aren't useless or evil either."

"What house do you think you're going to be in, Bill?" Stan asked, in a not so subtle change of subject.

Bill shrugged.

"With the way he talks about his brother, he's definitely going to be a Huffelpuff," Mike observed.

"No, with the way he had his head in the book and fired off those spells so quickly, he's definitely a Ravenclaw," Ben argued. "He said those spells so quietly and so quickly that I barely heard him say the spells."

"But his quick thinking and the way he volunteered to sit at the front of the compartment. And the way he was the only one to talk to that man… I think those are pretty Gryffindor traits," Bev put in.

Richie, for once, didn't say anything. He shot Bill a scrutinising look when Ben mentioned his spellcasting, but otherwise just shifted so he could sling an arm around Bill's shoulders.

"We'll see where Big Bill gets put. Wherever he goes, we'll still be friends with him."

"Of course," Bev proclaimed. "Screw house divisions."

"People are so dramatic about that," Mike said with an eye roll. "They just need to calm down."

"It's two minutes, and people treat it like a life sentence," Stan spat.

Bill raised his eyes at their outburst, but didn't comment. There were obviously a few sore spots there.

They rounded a corner and suddenly they could see the castle. They were all struck speechless as they lied eyes on the beautiful structure that would be their home for the better part of the next year.

"It's-" Bev began, but was unable to finish.

"Beautiful," Richie put in.

They were silent for the rest of the trip, unable to say anything as they took in the beautiful sight.

They stuck together as all the first years were herded into the Entrance Hall. Everyone was chittering nervously, muttering to each other.

Suddenly, there was a few screams, over the other side of the hall and all seven of them snapped their heads around to see a translucent floating figure hurling paint-filled balloons at students, who squealed as they burst over them and ruined their new uniforms.

The ghost swept downwards, laughing manically and heading straight for them. On instinct, Richie, Bev and Bill raised their wands.

Richie's wand automatically fired off a spell, whilst Bev yelped out, "Gardus."

Bill himself, just desperately thought about blocking the balloon from hitting him.

The spell that flew out of his wand was very similar to the grey one that burst out of Bev's and created a shimmering barrier above them, though, instead, of sliding off the shield, like Bev's spell, the balloons bounced back up towards the ghost.

Richie's spell blew a few of the balloons back at the ghost attacking him, passing through him and causing him to pause, before he burst out into crazed laughter.

"I like you kids!" he proclaimed, pulling his arm back to launch another balloon at them.

He was interrupted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall, who glared up at the ghost.

"Peeves," she said, her voice strict enough to strike fear into Bill's heart. "Leave this instant."

Peeves gave another cackle, but blew a raspberry and left, without another projectile thrown.

"Why that poltergeist must terrorise our first years every year," the woman muttered.

She sighed as she looked at the soon-to-be-students in front of her. "It seems that Peeves has stepped up his antics."

She waved her wand and the paint lifted off the student's clothes.

"Right. That's better," she said primly, her wand disappearing back into her robes.

"As I am sure you all know by now, you are about to be sorted into your houses. Your house will be your home and your family for the next seven years. You will earn points for your house by excelling in classwork, displaying exemplary attitude and character, and by completing other feats deemed worthy of reward.

You will also be able to lose points should you fail to complete your responsibilities as students or if you break school rules. Your teachers expect your best behaviour and your best efforts in your classes and we encourage you to strive to excel out of them by displaying responsibility and integrity.

Follow the rules, and make your house proud and you will enjoy your time here."

With that she turned around, and pushed the doors open.

All the students gasped as they took in scene before them. The rows of students, the floating candles, and to top it all off, the starry night sky hanging over them.

"That's not actually the sky," Ben murmured as they walked forward. "It's a charm."

"A very complicated, very intricate charm," Stan added, looking up in amazement.

They stopped in front of a small stool with an old hat slumped on it.

Bill furrowed his eyebrows. He hadn't been able to find the method of sorting anywhere. But this isn't what he was expecting.

Then, the hat came to life.


End file.
